Castle
by Weasley-Gurl
Summary: A game of chess works as a catalyst, beginning a chain of events which brings new things to light for Ron and Hermione.


Disclaimer: It's not mine. It's all JK Rowling's, who could give her biggest fan (that's me) the rights to Fred and George Weasley or Seamus Finnigan for a birthday present. I wouldn't care…

Rating: PG-13 (_Language,_ Weasley!) 

****

Castle

By Kat Weasley 

The king slid to the right, the castle to its left. A defensive maneuver. 

Hermione glanced up. Ron grinned. "Castle."

"I know what it _is_, Ron."

"Well, then it's your go."

Hermione huffed, but made her move. 

"Ah, now _that_ was a mistake." Ron was still grinning. "I have you in four plays." He moved again. "One."

Hermione smiled widely. "So much for your four moves, Ron. Check."

"You speak all too soon, Miss Granger." His bishop slid into place, forming a barrier between her castle and his king. "That's two."

Hermione moved, trying to find a way to get around his bishop. Ron's eyes sparkled. "Three." His knight slid into place and looked up at Hermione. She looked down at it, then moved again, taking Ron's castle with her bishop.

"And four. Checkmate." Hermione's king threw his crown to the foot of Ron's queen.

"There's you winning again."

"Yeah. But it does you good to play, Hermione. And it does you even better to lose."

__

Castle

The Gryffindor fifth year boys' dormitory was glowing with the light of the December sun coming through the windows. The boys themselves- well, all save one Ronald Weasley- were no less cheerful, after the proceedings following the chess match between Ron and Hermione the previous night. They had all been shocked, to say the least, but a good teasing was in order, as they all knew. And boys do love to tease. 

"So that with the Yule Ball last year. That was-"

"Absolutely nothing." Ron glared at Seamus.

"And last week, with Malfoy. You hit him because-"

"He's an ass." Ron was now wishing both Dean and Seamus would just kick the bucket right there.

"And last night, when she kissed you goodnight-"

"It was on the cheek! Honestly, Harry, just sod off!" Ron's ears were now glowing. It wasn't as if she hadn't done it before. Right after last year, in fact, she had done the exact same thing to Harry at King's Cross. In the middle of a train station. Mind you, she hadn't had that ridiculous grin on her face then- on the contrary, she had been nothing but grim- and Harry hadn't turned red right after, as Ron had done, and he could have swore she stayed there just a bit longer than she had with Harry- but that may have just been wishful thinking. No. Not _wishful thinking_. His imagination. He hadn't _wanted _her to do that, after all. In fact, he thought it quite sickening what she had done: the way she popped up onto her tip toes- as Ron was much taller than her- and pressed her mouth to his face. He reached up and touched the spot. Yes, definitely vomit-worthy. 

Ron suddenly noticed the snickers coming from Harry, and the outright hysterics Dean and Seamus had succumbed to upon his last action.

"I was just thinking how I should go wash it- might have germs." He mumbled indignantly.

"Suuuure you were," Dean gasped out.

Ron glared at Dean once again, and stalked out of the room. Not in time, however, to miss Seamus' mocking comment, "Hermione my love," he cried in falsetto, "I come to confess my undying affections to yooooou!"

__

Hermione's Move

Hermione had woke to squealing that morning. Which, as it turns out, rather resembled the giggling she had fallen asleep to. And it was all about the same thing- or rather, the same person. 

"Will she ever wake up?"

"It would figure that the one day she slept in, we actually wanted her to be awake."

"I'll bet she's not even asleep at all. She's probably just sitting there, listening to us." 

Hermione threw her head back onto her pillows ands shut her eyes. '_Be asleep. They won't bother you if you're asleep.'_

The curtains around her four-poster were suddenly pulled back and she saw a dull gleam through her eyelids where the sun's early-morning rays were pouring through the window, lighting the room, and now her bed as well. 

"Is she asleep?"

"Yes." Hermione could hear the exasperation in Pavarti's voice. 

Lavender sighed so loudly that Hermione heard it across the room. "Well, we can't wait here forever. I mean, we've already missed breakfast. And lunch is in less than an hour."

Hermione's sigh was not at all like Lavender's: hers was a sigh of relief. _Finally! Now they'll go away._

Oh, was she wrong.

"Hermiiione! Wake up, Hermiiione!" Both Pavarti and Lavender were now shaking her. "C'mon! We need to talk with you! Hermiiione!"

"Fine; I'm awake!" she snapped.

"See, Lav, I told you it would work."

"Honestly, Hermione, you wake up before dawn most mornings; why pick this one to sleep in? I mean, it's not even-"

"But that's not the point," interjected Pavarti. 

"Oh, that's right." Lavender giggled. "So what's with you and Ron Weasley?"

"What do you mean, what's with me and Ron? Nothing's with me and Ron." 

"Oh no you don't! You can't pull that one on us _this _time," Pavarti said, "We _saw _you two last night. You kissed him!" She and Lavendar squealed again.

"I- wha- I _did not_!"

"Yes you did! Right _here_." Lavender pointed to her left cheek. "Then you ran up here and you didn't even see; he was red as a beet, Hermione! I think you took him by surprise."

"But that's okay," said Pavarti, "It's all just the same because he sort of grinned after you were gone. He has a real funny grin, Hermione, I don't really see how you could like it. It's all crooked. Like this." She twitched one corner of her mouth up and let the other go slack. It was a horrible impersonation of the lopsided half-grin of Ron's that Hermione knew so well. 

"It is not funny-looking it's cu-" Hermione stopped. She could feel her cheeks warming. "Uh- I mean- you shouldn't make fun of others, Pavarti. It's not nice and, uh, I could take points off." She reached over and picked up her Prefect's badge from her bedside table. 

"There's no need to get snappish. I just mean, I think he fancies you too."

"He- I- what?!" Hermione's mouth dropped open for a second, before she recovered herself. "No… _no_, you have it all wrong. We don't- I never, and, well, he _wouldn't_- we just don't see each other that way."

"Well, then," said Lavender with a superior look on her face, "What was that in the common room last night?

__

'Honestly, whoever said girls mature faster than boys obviously never met these two.' "It's just something we do. As _friends_."

"It's just as well," said Lavender, "That hair of his just isn't-"

"Do _not_," growled Hermione, "Make fun of my Ron's hair." With that said, she flung open the door.

__

Play One

Ron climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory. He had decided, as it was no longer safe to be in the same room as his roomates, that the best thing to do would be to head down to lunch. Or rather, fetch Hermione and then go to lunch. 

There was muffled talking coming through the door to her room. Rethinking opening the door- after all, they could be changing- Ron lifted his hand to knock. 

Suddenly, one voice- which he recigonzed as Hermione's- rose in volume, so that he could hear it through the door.

"Do _not_ make fun of my Ron's hair!" Ron choked. They had been talking about him- they had said something about his hair- he raised his hand to his head and knit his eyebrows in confusion; it wasn't _that_ bad. Then he realized: "Do not make fun of my Ron's hair!", "_My_ Ron's hair!"!

"Holy shit." 

Ron was suddenly pulled from his thoughts as the door, which he had been leaning on, was thrown open, throwing him to the ground. "Umph!"

"Ron!" It was Hermione. Hermione- who had called him _her_ _Ron._ A funny gurgling noise came from the back of his throat.

"Ron, are you alright?!" Damn that gurgling noise. "Ron, say something. Why are you up here?"

"Uh- um- I- uh-"

"For heaven's sake!" Hemione threw her hands into the air. "If you aren't going to say anything, at least get up; you're blocking the stairway." She held out her hand to help him up.

Ron, not knowing what else to do- after all, it seemed he had suddenly become mute- took it. This, apparently, had been the wrong thing to do. Now, not only was he a mute, he had also lost all feeling in his left hand. 

But at least now he was standing. 

"I was about to go to lunch. Are you coming?"

"Uh-" Ron said, "Uh- yeah. Sure." 

__

Check

Lunch was a disaster. Firstly, and most annoyingly of all, it seemed everyone in the whole school had decided to stare at Hermione that day. Or, as it turns out, Hermione _and Ron_. For, two identical red-heads who shall remain anonymous but for the sake of argument will be called Gred and Forge, took it upon themselves to discuss the events of the previous night in _very loud voices_ while at breakfast that morning. 

Secondly, Hermione was disturbingly unsettled by the knowledge that Ron kept glancing up at her when she was not looking. And when he did so, it was with this _gaze_ like the ones you see in creepy romance films. Or perhaps that was just her imagination. After all, this _was_ Ron Weasley. 

And just when it seemed the creepiness of the silence and half-glancing was nearly gone, Ron did something completely and utterly horrifying: he reached for the pumpkin juice at the same time Hermione did. And his hand covered hers, and naturally, they both pulled back. But Ron's hands _are_ rather large and in the process of jerking his hand back- which was a bit odd as he acted as if he had just been burnt- he had accidentally tipped over the juice. And in this spans of time, Hermione had just enough time to notice what an interesting shade of red Ron's ears had turned before she was suddenly covered in orange, sticky pumpkin juice. 

"Hermione, watch- sorry." Ron turned an even more violent shade of red. 

"It's alright. Just fine. I'll just-" '_Go to the library and find out what makes your ears go like that._' "-just go upstairs and change."

"Okay. I'll go with you then." Ron stood up and followed her.

Incidentally, all heads in the Great Hall- save a few Slytherins who were too disgusted with the news to look and a couple of Ravenclaws who were too engrossed in their Transfiguration homework to care- turned in one great wave to watch them leave together. Ron and Hermione never noticed.

"So… did you finish your Transfiguration homework yet?"

"No."

"What? You didn't finish your-"

"No. You can't copy. Of _course _I've finished it. It was assigned two weeks ago." Hermione rubbed at her robes with a napkin. 

"Oh." 

'_Why did he have to come with me? It's not as if he's going to follow me upstairs and help me change or anything._' Hermione looked at Ron suspiciously. He was staring at the floor with his hands in his pockets and his ears still red as beets- with the back of his neck matching, she noticed. 

"Are you sunburnt?" 

"What?" Ron finally looked up from the floor.

"Are you sunburnt? You shouldn't be, really. I mean, I _did _show you that charm and if you haven't been using it-"

"I'm not sunburned, Hermione. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you're all _red_ and you aren't usually-" she paused. "Well, if you aren't burnt, then what is it?"

"'S nothing," Ron mumbled, as he returned to staring at the floor.

"Fine then." They walked a ways in silence. "Honestly, Ron, I just _knew _you weren't using that charm during practices. It's not as if I'll get angry or anything. It is _your_ skin after all, and if you _want_ to get cancer, then fine by me." They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady by this time. Hermione paused to take a breath. "_Cockatoo._ But, honestly, if I go to all the trouble to find that charm for you and teaching you how to do it when I could be doing homework-"

"Hermione. I am not sunburned." 

She looked up at him to reply, but- Ron was looking right back at her, stubbornness shining in his eyes- and Hermione realized for the first time in their four years as friends that Ron had an abnormally long nose. She looked at this nose for a minute, memorizing every freckle, every patch of red that had obviously come from playing Quidditch too often, and with the merest half glance upwards saw just how tall Ron really was. And her voice caught. This was very unlike Hermione, who always knew what to say and didn't have any problem expressing her feelings about things- just look at S.P.E.W.- but all the same, there it was. And after a moments pause, she remembered herself- or at least the reason she was standing in the middle of the common room during lunch- turned, and fled up the stairs. 

__

Play Two: Bishop to G7

"_What_ is with her?" Ron stuffed his hands in his pockets once again and threw himself on the couch by the fire. " '_Honestly, Ron. You must be sunburned or else why would you be red like that?_' Please." He stared at his hands, his face set in a sort of grimace. "It's not as if she doesn't know what it is. She's just teasing me about it." He half-heartedly kicked the table in front of him. "And she wouldn't- not if she knew how stupid it is to turn red every time you're embarrassed. These stupid ears of mine. It's not _my_ fault they do that." 

"So. What'd you say this time?" Ron looked up and saw a grinning Harry about to sit down next to him. 

"Nothing. What makes you think I said anything? She just had to go upstairs and change." Ron grinned. 

"Great load of work that'll be for the house elves, getting the stains out of her robes."

"She just seemed a bit flustered."

"_Flustered_?! Harry, I think you've been hanging 'round Hermione too long. That's not a normal word. Besides, you'd be _flustered_, too, if you'd just had a great load of pumpkin juice fly all over you."

"Yeah, well." Harry didn't look convinced. "If you're going to fight, just be careful what you say, alright? 

She is, you know, a _girl_ and all, and they tend to get all, well, _emotional_ and stuff over really small things."

Ron looked up from staring at his hands. "Did she really look that bad? I mean, I don't _think _I said anything to make her upset but- well, she kept going on about that spell she taught me (you know the one: for protecting me from the sun while I'm playing Quidditch) and she seemed to think I wasn't using it. 

She might have been upset. You're right about girls. I mean, I told Ginny her new robes made her look like Millicent Bulstrode with red hair this summer and she practically _cried_. They're _odd_, Harry."

"Well, this is Hermione we're talking about, and she doesn't usually get all sappy and girly like that but-"

"Yeah, she gets sort of odd like that more often, lately. Like last year with the-" He gulped. "Yeah. Anyway, I think I'll go up and check on her. Make sure she's alright and everything."

Ron was halfway up the stairs when Harry called after him, "Wait! Didn't you say she was changing clothes?"

Ron turned and looked at Harry. "Yeah, yeah good point. Maybe I should knock first." And he ran the rest of the way up the stairs. 

__

Break The Wall

Hermione was sitting on her bed, her robes thrown to the ground, but still wearing the damp jumper and jeans she had been wearing under it. '_What was that? Of course Ron's tall. He's always been tall. It's normal for him to be that tall. And if his feet are any indication, he'll be much taller before he stops growing. And I'm not the tallest girl on Earth, either, so he would seem extra tall in comparison. It's all a matter of perspective. And-_" Her thoughts were cut short by a banging on the door.

"Hermione? Are you in there? Are you decent? Can I come in?"

"Ron?" What was he doing there?! Hermione, remembering who her roomates were- that is, not the cleanest teenagers in the world- checked for any underwear that might be lying around. After shoving a particularly luminescent number Lavender had tossed onto her trunk the night before under the bed, she called out that it was alright.

The door opened slowly, and Ron entered with a hand over his eyes. "I'm not looking, in case you'd like to tidy or something. I know how you are about cleanness and all."

"Cleanliness."

"Whatever. I know how you are about _cleanliness_-"

"Already done."

"Good." Ron removed his hand from his eyes. "Because I felt like an idiot standing with my eyes covered like that." He grinned. "So."

"So?"

"Yeah." He was looking around the room, taking in the stuffed teddy on Lavender's bed, the posters of various male singers and Quidditch stars in their training uniforms- that is, sweaty undershirts you could see through and tight pants- of Pavarti's, and Hermione's little corner of neatly stacked books and quills, looking anywhere but at her.

"So, was there any particular reason you're here?" she ventured.

Ron snapped out of his stupor and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Yeah, um. Hermione-" He was now rubbing the back of his neck, staring at the floor. "If I said anything to, you know, make you _upset_ or anything, I'm- it's just- well-"

"Yes?"

"You're overreacting. Because I didn't say anything to make you upset like that."

Hermione huffed. "For your information, I wasn't _upset_ about anything. And another thing: since when do I overreact about things you say?"

"Since always. All I have to do is say your hair looks bushy today and-"

Hermione's hand shot up to her hair for a second; she looked livid. "I do _not_! And just for the record, what do you _mean_ my hair looks bushy today?!"

"See? See?! You're overreacting. I didn't even _say_ it was bushy, it was completely hypo-hypowhatsit! I just said that if I _did_ say that, you would go all weird and stuff for no reason. And I was right; look at you!"

"It's _hypothetical_. And I am _not _overreacting!"

"Yes you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"_Yes_. You are."

"No I'm- Argh! Get out."

"What?"

"Get out! I can't deal with this right now."

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Ron slammed the door behind him. But just as Hermione had sat back down on her bed, the door flung open again.

"And, by the way, that jumper's see-through when it's wet." And the door closed again.

__

Play Three

"She's impossible, Harry. Really, I go up there to apologize and she just kicks me out, right out of the blue! I didn't even _do_ anything!"

It seemed Harry never believed the truth anymore. He raised his eyebrows and looked over his Divintation book. "You didn't do anything."

"No!"

"…And she just made you leave, just like that?"

"Exactly!"

"Somehow, I don't believe that."

Ron stared at him. "So you think I said something to make her blow up like that?! I'm telling you, Harry, she's a lunatic. I did nothing!"

"Uh huh. Alright."

"You still don't believe me."

"Nope." Ron went back to working on his Divination homework, purposely not looking at Harry. "Look, think of who we're talking about, Ron. Hermione's not about to just _do_ something right out of the blue. She has to have a reason."

"I don't know, Harry. She's been acting really strange lately. Maybe all girls turn into Pavarti and Lavender when they turn fifteen. You know, '_Oh, Seamus, this flower is beautiful!_', and all that nonsense."

"Or maybe you just don't know the difference between an insult and everyday conversation anymore." It was Hermione. And she didn't look at all pleased to find out they had been talking about her. Ron noticed that she had changed out of the wet jumper and into a navy blue one. 

"Uh, yeah. I have something important to do. Upstairs," Harry said, and ran off, calling over his shoulder, 

"'Night, Hermione."

"So I'm a lunatic now, am I? I'm a lunatic who obsesses over everything."

"That's not what I said, but if that's what you say, I'm not going to argue-"

"And just for your information, you _did_ start that up in my dorm. You said I overreact about everything."

Ron stood up. "That's because you do!"

"As if you don't!"

"I don't!"

"Oh, please, Mr. '_fraternizing with the enemy_'. Sure, you don't make a big deal out of anything."

"Well, maybe I had a reason for not wanting you to go to the ball with Vikky!" 

__

Bishop To F8

Hermione was stunned. Abruptly, she was reminded of the conversation she had had with Pavarti and Lavender that morning. "_I just mean, I think he fancies you too_." Maybe this was what they meant.

"And that was…" She now sounded more hopeful than angry. She even forgot to mention her hatred of the nickname Ron had come up with for Viktor Krum. And it annoyed the heck out of her.

Ron looked confused. "It was, it was, well I don't really know."

"So there really was no reason?" _Why_ did she have to sound so disappointed?

"Of course there was. I just can't think of it right now. Mainly because it was just wrong, though, you going with him. There's a billion other guys at Hogwarts and Harry didn't have anyone to go with and neither did- well, you could have gone with someone you _knew_ at least."

"Like Neville?"

"No. Not Neville."

"Why not?"

"Because he's too clumsy. You should have seen Ginny out there dancing with him; he kept stepping on her feet."

"Then Harry?"

"Not Harry either."

"Why not Harry?"

"Because he wanted to go with Cho Chang. He would have only asked you if he couldn't get her to go with him. You don't deserve that."

"Uh huh. Then who? Seamus? Dean?"

"No. They both had dates already."

"Well, I'm sure you aren't suggesting that I should have gone with Malfoy?"

"Hell no!" 

Hermione felt her cheeks warm. There was only one other person she knew very well… "Then who? If not Harry or Neville or Dean or Seamus, who else is there?"

Ron's face was set and for a moment she thought he was about to say '_Me_'. And she didn't know why the idea was so appealing to her. True, she had practically told him last year that she would have gone with him if he'd asked her. But she'd never really thought of it _that_ way. As she had pointed out to her roommates countless times, it wasn't as if she _fancied _him. And yet, it seemed her stomach had dropped out at the prospect of what he was surely about to say…

"I don't know. Just not Krum."

"Oh." 

"Look, Hermione, I have this problem in Divination that I'm having trouble with. Could you help me with 

it?"

"Sure." Hermione slumped into the seat where Harry had been sitting before, and they began looking over his homework. 

__

Play Four: Checkmate

"So, that's it, then?"

"Unless you want to lend me your Transfiguration paper for some light reading…" Ron looked up from his finished homework.

"How about not?"

"Come on, Hermione. Please?"

"No."

"Fine then." He looked back down at his paper. When he looked back up a minute later, Hermione was still standing there. "Yes?"

"What you said, earlier, about the ball last year…"

"Uh huh?" Ron looked back down at his paper.

"Well, if you meant something by it- I mean, if there's something you want to say, I won't-"

"You won't what?"

"It wouldn't be stupid if you did have someone who you thought I should have gone with, someone in particular…"

Ron's eyebrows knitted together. He didn't rightly know _what_ she was talking about, as he wasn't entirely paying attention to what she had just said. But from what he had caught, it seemed pretty important. If he thought she should have gone with someone in particular… Well, what did she expect him to say? Of course there was no one in _particular_ he had wanted her to go with. What, did she think he had meant himself? It was preposterous, ridiculous even. And yet… She reached out and held his hand for a second before rethinking her actions and pulling away. And when she pulled back, he wondered why his hand suddenly felt empty.

"Ron?"

"Uh- no. I didn't have anyone in mind. Why?" He looked at her hopefully. And yet he didn't know what he was hoping she would say.

"No reason." She may have looked a bit downcast, but perhaps this was just his imagination. "I'm off to bed." She turned, and Ron felt a tickling of something in his brain. He knew it had to do with Hermione, but he wasn't sure exactly what. And if he could just keep her there a bit longer, maybe he could figure it out.

"Wait. Hermione." Ron reached out and grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn around. 

And suddenly they were closer than they had been since the First Task the year before, and she was _really _short and her hair was flying in every direction possible, and her eyes were sort of glazed from being so tired. 

…And that's when he kissed her. On the mouth. And his ears turned a shade of red never before known to humanity. 


End file.
